


Black Lines

by chucks_prophet



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 15x06, 15x06 coda, ASL, Background Destiel, Cute, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Happy Sam Winchester, Literally the Only Reason I'm Writing this Coda, POV Sam Winchester, Sam and ASL, Sam's past, TW: Brief Mention of Past Rape, except for Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:28:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21529831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chucks_prophet/pseuds/chucks_prophet
Summary: Eileen pulls back first when she realizes Sam is signing something else on her arm. His thumb and pinky are jutting out. At first, she looks confused. As if she’s not familiar with this sign. Sam doesn’t blame her. He would’ve gotten her accustomed to it had he signed it four years ago.When it finally registers, her mouth hangs agape.
Relationships: Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Comments: 15
Kudos: 86





	Black Lines

**_“The same black line that was drawn on you_ **

**_Was drawn on me_ **

**_And now it's drawn me in…”_ **

Black Lines

Sam’s seen a lot of evil.

He walked into his girlfriend’s arson. He’s woken up—twice—to a murder he didn’t commit. He’s watched, powerless, as his brother died in his arms at the expense of someone else’s sick amusement. He’s been sliced, stabbed, bludgeoned, drugged, tortured, raped, and everything in-between.

He’s been the vessel for Lucifer himself.

So needless to say, when he saw an angel last night—for the first in a long time—he knew he was on the path to redemption.

It wasn’t the kind of angels he’s used to. Not all powerful and all-knowing and cosmic. Instead, she was merciful and timorous, and fit inside the pocket of his arm. The warmth from her body spread to his face, inviting a smile—an invitation he gladly welcomed to his lips. He and happiness have been estranged for way too long; it’s about time they caught up.

He made her a room. He gave her every blanket he owned so she could be as warm as she made him feel. She shed half of them in the middle of the night. Not that Sam knew that. He was well on his way to a rare night of uninterrupted sleep with the smell of her clinging to him like a new detergent—something that didn’t go unnoticed by his brother come morning light.

“Didn’t feel like sweating your guts out this morning?”

In all honesty, Sam doesn’t feel like he needs to. He’s felt more content than he has in years. But he’s not about to tell Dean that. “I got caught up in a new case last night,” he says with a shrug.

“Mmm.” There’s even a smile on Dean’s face he doesn’t bother hiding behind his steaming mug.

“Any word from Cas?”

Dean pulls back his coffee and goes quiet, as if he scalded his tongue. “No,” is all he says after a pause. It’s a lie.

“Okay,” is all Sam replies.

Dean resumes his coffee.

A few minutes later, Eileen appears at the end of the hallway with one of Sam’s borrowed duffels.

Dean glances from Eileen to Sam curiously.

There’s a moment, before Sam moves from the old, creaking chair in the library, where they’re just staring at each other. Eileen starts to lift her left hand to her chin again, but Sam’s quicker. He grabs her hand and intertwines his.

It’s so quiet between them, he hears her breath catch. When she lifts her head back up, Sam is signing thank you with his other hand.

And he means it. He means it like the world depends on it—like _his_ world depends on it.

“Be safe.”

She lets go of his hand to bring her right down in a fist. Her left index finger then transforms into a flat palm atop it. It’s quite literally an unspoken “promise”.

Sam watches her leave, the echo of her boots a cradlesong to Sam’s tired ears. And then it’s just Sam and his for-once steady breathing and the usual weight of his brother’s gaze.

She greets the first step of the staircase as quick as she ditches it. Determination in her stride, she marches back up to Sam, lifts on her feet, and pulls Sam by the nape of his neck.

It’s a feather-light kiss, nothing more than the molding of two broken pieces coming together to make one complete piece, but Sam gives it time to bake. He closes his eyes and rests a hand against her forearm.

Eileen pulls back first when she realizes Sam is signing something else on her arm. His thumb and pinky are jutting out. At first, she looks confused. As if she’s not familiar with this sign. Sam doesn’t blame her. He would’ve gotten her accustomed to it had he signed it four years ago.

When it finally registers, her mouth hangs agape.

“Just another couple days,” Sam reassures.

Behind him, Dean swallows something more pungent than his black coffee.

Eileen tilts her head to the side just a little, the way she does when she’s overwhelmed. Through glistening chestnut eyes, she covers Sam’s opposite arm with the same hand orientation.

Sam smiles harder than he has in a while.

A couple days turns into a week.

He may not have faith in God anymore, but like hell if he still doesn’t believe in miracles.

**Author's Note:**

> *Song at the beginning and title inspired by "6th Avenue Heartache" by The Wallflowers


End file.
